by A W Hartoin
During that all-important pause, I saw Sorcha and called out, “Sorcha, what do you think about Costa Rica for our bridal trip?”
I never saw Dad again. The Troublesome Trio completely took me over and we had half the wedding planned before Chuck dragged me out of there. I was definitely the Maid of Honor again. No regrets.
“Mercy! Mercy!” Grandma J waved frantically from the middle of a line.
It was not my imagination when every security guard turned around to look. I was kinda infamous at Lambert, being put on the terrorist watchlist and whatnot.
I pulled my cute little paisley biker’s cap down to my sunglasses and hustled over before my grandmother gave someone an idea.
“Shush,” I said. “Don’t draw attention to me.”
Grandma J got all squirrelly and looked around. “Do you think he’s here?”
“Dad? No. If he knew, he’d never have let me get this far.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said.
“Alright.” She did a spin. “How do I look? Now I tried to be practical. No high heels. Plenty of pockets and I’ve got this.” She pulled up her sweater and revealed a weird beige pouch thing tied around her waist.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“My Rick Steves money pouch. He says it’s essential,” she said. “Do you have yours?”
“I have a purse, pepper spray, and Great Grandpa’s Mauser. I’m good.”
“You can fly with that?”
“I’ve got all the paperwork and I’ll check it under sporting equipment.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“I have.”
Grandma J looked at me for a moment. “This is not what I wanted for you.”
“I figured,” I said.
“But it’s who you are.”
“Apparently so.”
A smile bloomed on her wide lips. “I am so excited. It’s my first time.”
“For Europe, right?”
“For everything,” she said. “I’ve never done any investigating. Ace always kept me away from it and your father, too. Great Grandpa Elijah said I was too delicate and it stuck.”
“You don’t seem delicate,” I said.
“Thank you. I married Ace Watts and raised three just like him. How delicate can I be?”
“Good point.”
Grandma practically vibrated her way up to the counter and chatted the ears off the agent. Her joy did make everything smoother. Herbert the agent barely looked at my paperwork and Mauser, instead of wanting to pat me down and be obnoxious. We sailed through and ended up at security in record time. It was all going so well, I should’ve known it couldn’t last. We even got through the line in record time. Aaron brought breakfast sandwiches and we got coffee at the gate while we waited to board. That’s when I got a feeling. That something isn’t right feeling. No, not exactly that. It was the somebody’s watching me feeling. I tried to shrug it off. It wasn’t exactly unusual, but it just kept nagging at me.
The announcement system crackled to life and said louder than I would’ve liked,“Mercy Watts and party, please come to Gate 31A. Mercy Watts and party, please come to Gate 31A.”
Crap on a cracker. There it is.
“What’s happening?” Grandma asked. “Are we in trouble?”
“If there’s trouble, it’s me, don’t worry,” I said.
We tucked away our sandwiches and went to the desk. If the FBI got wind of my trip and ruined this for Grandma, I would kick somebody’s butt and I don’t mean maybe.
“Hi. I’m Mercy Watts and this is my party,” I said with dread in every fiber of my being.
“It really is you,” said Marcy at the desk with a bright smile. She didn’t seem devious, but you never know.
“It’s me. What’s happened?”
“Okay. We’ve got your upgrades all set. Four in first class.”
“First class?” I asked. “We got Comfort Plus.” It took a bunch of my miles to upgrade us out of the main cabin, but for Grandma’s first trip, it seemed like a good granddaughter thing to do.
“Those tickets have been refunded. Your party is now in first class.”
“How’d that happen?”
“You and your party are special guests of Delta and you will be boarding immediately,” said Marcy.
The guy in the line next to us leaned over. “How’d you swing that? They’re treating me like I’ve got syphilis and I bought my tickets six months ago.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “Usually I’m the one with syphilis.”
He chuckled and went back to eyeballing the gate guy that was telling him that he and his wife were not sitting together on a long-haul flight and he should be grateful that they weren’t next to the toilets.
“We’re in first class?” Grandma asked.
“I guess so,” I said.
Marcy beamed at us. “I’ve got your boarding passes all ready. Is there anything that I can do that would make your journey with us more perfect?”
I glanced over at syphilis guy and said, “Let him sit with his wife.”
“Well, I…”
I lowered my sunglasses. “You know you can do it, so just do it for us, the special guests of Delta.”
Marcy bit her lip and slid over to her compadre, who quickly said, “It looks like we have some seats together in row fourteen. They just came open.”
Syphilis guy’s wife came over and said, “You are a saint. Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Marcy slid back over to us and said, “Anything else?” She sounded a little nervous, so I gave her a break. “That’ll do it.”
She went back to beaming and said, “So here they are. Four tickets. First class.” She put four boarding passes on the counter.
“Four tickets? There’s only three of us.”
She frowned. “There are four in the Mercy Watts party and you’re all here. Perfect. Antonio will let you board now.”
“What the…” I turned around and there he was, Moe Licata, giving me a little finger wave much like his niece Fats.
“What in the world?” I asked.
Moe whipped off his flat driving cap and bowed to Grandma. “Moe Licata, at your service.” Then he kissed Grandma’s hand and winked his right, bulging, moist eye at me. “Glad to see me?”
“Shocked is more like it,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“Fats can’t go, so you got me,” he said.
“I didn’t tell Fats.”
“Didn’t tell Fats.” He put his palms up. “Like that’s necessary.”
“Um…I thought it was,” I said.
He tweaked my chin. “So young and so pretty.” He looked at Marcy. “She seems dumb, but she’s not. Ticket, please.”
An astonished Marcy handed Moe a ticket and watched as the ancient mobster herded us to Antonio at the gate. “It’s a good day to be assigned to you. Fats is going to be pissed, but it’s not my fault she’s knocked up and puking.”
We got through the gate and Moe led the way down the long gangway with Aaron. Grandma took my arm and whispered, “Who is this person? He’s very odd-looking.”
Moe was about the oddest-looking person I knew. His short-cropped hair was sort of brindle patterned like a dog, his eyes were moist and bulging, he had two hairy warts on the side of his nose, and a slightly humped back. I think he was seventy, but he looked ninety-five. He worked for the Fibonacci family in various capacities and my dad had arrested him for racketeering back in the day. I suspected Moe did a lot more for Calpurnia Fibonacci than simple racketeering. If someone said he was the family exterminator, I wouldn’t have been surprised. He had that kind of feel about him.
“He’s Fats’ uncle,” I said.
“And he’s…going on our trip?” Grandma asked.
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know how Fats helps me out, I guess he’s going to do that for th
is trip,” I said.
“He’s your bodyguard?”
It sounded so stupid I couldn’t even say yes. Fats was a bodyguard. The woman scared people by breathing in their direction. I’d seen people on chemo that looked stronger than Moe.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not a good idea. He looks ill.”
We got to the jet and Moe turned around. “Ladies, don’t worry about me. I know my business. Calpurnia wouldn’t have sent me if I didn’t. I’ve got this. Mrs. Watts, I have got to say those are the most beautiful earrings.”
“Thank you,” Grandma said, staring a little.
“You’re welcome.” He held out a liver-spotted hand and helped her over the threshold. “This is going to be a great trip. Did you know that Stuttgart has one of the largest Christmas markets in Germany?”
“I did know that,” she said. “I’m so excited.”
“So am I. I’m in 2a. Perhaps Mercy will switch with me and we can sit together. Did you know that your husband arrested me in 1977?”
Grandma looked at me with wide eyes and I shrugged. She wanted an adventure. It was now guaranteed.
We stood at baggage claim for what seemed like six years and I kept a hand on Grandma’s elbow. The lady was buzzing from the excellent and plentiful espresso in first class. I was afraid she’d dart off in the Stuttgart airport and I’d spend half the day tracking her.
“This is taking a long time. Isn’t this taking a long time?” she asked.
“Nope,” I said. “This is normal.”
“I don’t think it’s normal. How can this be normal? Normal is an interesting term, isn’t it? Who decides what’s normal? Who’s in charge of that?” With that, my grandmother made a break for it, juking to the right, and I lost my grip. Aaron’s arm shot out and he got her without his eyes ever leaving the stationary baggage drop.
“You’ve got skills, my friend,” said Moe.
Aaron gave a slight nod and the baggage carousel made a grinding noise.
“Here we go.” Grandma went up on her tiptoes and clasped her hands. “We’re almost ready to see Germany.”
Moe smiled at her and then whispered to me. “Let’s get our stuff. She’s not going anywhere now.”
“What stuff?” I asked.
“You checked a weapon, didn’t you?”
“Sure.”
“Alright then.” Moe steered me away from the placid Aaron and the thrilled Grandma to the special luggage pick up where there was a short line of people getting skis and whatnot. We waited a few minutes and then presented paperwork. I hadn’t thought about Moe Licata packing, but, of course, he was. Fats didn’t go to the bathroom unarmed.
The agent and guard checked our paperwork twice with raised eyebrows at my lame disguise of hat and sunglasses and then she retrieved our boxes.
“I can tell it’s you,” she said.
“Swell.”
“You could try a scarf over the lips.”
“Noted. Thanks.”
The agent handed over my little travel case and then hauled up a big-wheeled one for Moe, plus a rifle case.
He thanked the staff and extended the handle. “Ready?”
“I guess.” I thanked the staff and noted that one immediately picked up a phone. Awesome.
I chased Moe out to the baggage claim and asked, “What did you bring?”
“Not my full complement, but it should be sufficient,” he said.
“Sufficient for what?”
He smiled at me. “You never know.” He eyeballed my puny case and asked, “What did you bring?”
“My Mauser.”
“The antique?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s adorable,” he said.
“It fits my hand,” I said.
“Good enough.
Our bags came around and Grandma grabbed hers, practically swinging it over her head. Aaron had to snag her again so she wouldn’t run off while we collected our luggage. Then there was no holding her back. Grandma was off and running with no clue where we were going. She tried to go up the escalator to the check-in area, but I yanked her off in time.
“We’re going to get our rental,” I said, panting.
“It’s up there.”
“It’s not.”
“Okay. Where? Where?” Grandma asked. I pointed and she shook her head. “I’m getting fuzzy. I need more coffee.”
“No more coffee for you.”
“You’re not in charge. I’m your elder.”
God help me.
Aaron came over and took her other elbow.
“Aaron, you’ll get me an espresso. I love espresso. I didn’t know. It’s very good though.”
“No,” he said.
“Mercy, let’s get a real European pastry. We can split it.”
“No airport pastry,” I said. “It’s a rule.”
“Since when?”
“Since it’s bad. Don’t worry. Aaron will explain the food rules.”
She leaned over to me. “But he doesn’t hardly talk.”
“He does when motivated…by food.”
“I don’t think—”—she pointed—“there’s a Mercedes. Right here in the airport.” Grandma got away from us and started ogling the Mercedes on display. I tried to get her past it and then Moe was gone.
We’re never getting out of this flipping airport.
“Come on,” I said. “Rental car and we lost Moe.”
“Oh, my God,” she exclaimed. “We can’t lose him. He’s never been to Germany before.”
Aaron pointed and I should’ve known. He was checking out the sex shop because it’s an airport and you got to have a sex shop. I have a few nightmares and looking at a sex shop window with my grandmother is one of them, but you just couldn’t avoid that shop. Big, red and black, and filled with mannequins. Awesome. My day just got better.
“Look at that.” And Grandma was off and ogling just as much as Moe.
I’m not going to hell. I’m already there.
“Alright, people,” I said. “Moving on.”
“They have a lot on display,” said Grandma.
“They do indeed.”
“You’d look good in that nurse outfit, Janine,” said Moe.
Kill me now.
Grandma slapped his arm. “Oh, Moe. You are so bad, but not wrong. I have the legs for it.”
I’m out.
I hoofed it down to the rental car area and happily the rest of my crazy crew followed. Grandma J grabbed my arm. “Are those in every airport?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Here we are. Rental cars.”
We got in line and happily, Moe started talking about our Christmas market choices, so I felt free to call Chuck as requested.
“Hey,” said someone, not Chuck.
“Who’s this?” I asked.
“Mercy, it’s Stevie.”
“Why are you answering Chuck’s phone?”
“I’m animal sitting. How’s Stuttgart?”
He remembered Stuttgart. Holy crap.
“Still in the airport. How are you feeling?”
Stevie didn’t answer for a minute and then said, “Quiet.”
“Is that good?” I asked.
“Yeah. I can see stuff. Did you know you have four coffee makers?”
“Five actually. One’s under the sink.”
A cabinet door opened and Stevie said, “There it is. You probably don’t need that many coffee things.”
“Take it up with Chuck,” I said. “How’d it go with your parents?”
“Good. Mom loves the tattoo. She cried, but in a good way. Dad didn’t say much. He’s waiting for me to screw up.”
I can’t believe you know that.
“They’ll come around if you work at it,” I said.
“I’m definitely gonna take the pills. Mom said I was good to talk to, so that’s nice.”
We were next in line, so I said, “Excellent. Can you tell Chuck we got here okay?”
> “He’s awake. You want to talk to him?” Stevie asked.
“Sure.”
Chuck got on and said, “I wish I’d come with you.”
“I’m fine. You need to get some rest.”
“I can’t get you off my mind,” he said.
“That’s sweet,” I said.
“I sent you to deal with The Klinefeld Group on your own.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not them and I’m not alone.”
Chuck scoffed. “You’ve got Aaron and your grandmother.”
“And Moe.”
“You brought Fats’ dog? Why in the heck? She’s tiny. What’s she going to do? Bite their ankles?”
“She bites crotches, too, but it’s not the dog. It’s Uncle Moe.”
Chuck went quiet and the rental agent waved us up. Moe dashed ahead of me, all smiles and ready with his passport. I don’t know what he was going to do. The reservation was in my name, but I let him go for it. Big mistake. He went for a Mercedes.
I elbowed him. “We didn’t book a Mercedes.”
“I don’t drive Opels,” Moe said.
“You’re not driving.”
He looked at me with those moist, bulging eyes and raised his palms. “Come on. What am I for?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“What don’t you know?” Chuck asked.
“What Moe’s for.”
Moe tapped his American Express card on the counter and said, “We’ll take the Mercedes.”
“S Class?” asked the agent.
He winked at her. “Naturally.”
“We don’t need an S class,” I said.
Moe pushed me away from the counter and Grandma said, “Oh yes. That’s the big one. We should have the big one.”
I walked away. What else could I do?
“So…when you say Moe…” Chuck said.
“Moe Licata.”
“Oh, thank God. Now I can sleep.”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Moe Licata has skills,” he said.
I looked over at Moe. His pants were sliding down to reveal the top of a hairy butt and he was putting on Coke bottle glasses to read the rental contract.
“Oh, yeah? What are they?”
Chuck yawned. “I feel so much better. I’m going to lay down. Love you.”